The Spy
by muchbeddled
Summary: Guy of Gisbourne returns from self-exile in France, to spy on Robin and Marian's happy family, while he plots revenge. Takes place immediately before A Birthday for Much, but may also be a stand alone story.
1. Chapter 1

Old Man Elbert, nearly as blind as a bat at eighty-seven years, could still find his way about the outer edges of the forest without any help.

Elbert knew just where the tastiest mushrooms could be found...not those wicked mushrooms that made you see and hear things that weren't there, that the scoundrel tavern keeper Allan a Dale used to favor, nor the ones that would poison you like one of Queen Isabella's potions, but the tasty ones that simply flavored your broth. And so today, just as he had done for years, Elbert trudged his way near the bank of the river Trent, pushing aside layers of leaf mold, to gather mushrooms.

Unable to see clearly, he was confused when his walking staff poked something much larger than a bed of mushrooms, then grew alarmed when it leaped to its feet, drew forth its sword, and swore at him.

Terror nearly crushed him when he recognized the deep, furious voice of the one-time wrongful Lord of Locksley, but he soon recovered, thinking his ears had deceived him. After all, it couldn't be. Sir Guy of Gisbourne had long since fled to France, never to return to English soil, or so Elbert and the rest of Nottinghamshire believed.

No indeed, it couldn't be Gisbourne. Elbert took comfort, knowing his hearing was nearly as poor as his eyesight.

Startled awake from his hiding place under the cover of leaves, Gisbourne immediately recognized the old man as some harmless dottering peasant who lived in the vicinity of Locksley. "Here to steal from the king's forest?" he sneered. "What's the matter? Doesn't the Lord of Locksley enforce the forestry laws?"

Old Man Elbert chuckled merrily. "Bless him!" he cried, enthusiastically. "Master Robin gives us leave to take whatever we need, laws or no laws! 'Why should I,' says he, with that twinkle in his eye, 'because of my birth, have permission to take what God provides, while the rest of you starve? I can't allow that.' Yes indeed, we are all well fed and happy, now that Master Robin's back home in Locksley!"

Gisbourne growled under his breath. "He's married, I presume?"

"What's that? Oh! Married! Yes he is, and a prettier lady never graced the manor, though my old eyes can't make her out any more! Two turtle-doves, that's what they are, when they're not arguing, and even then...you can tell they're mad for each other! A darling little family, with their two little girls, so rosy and happy!"

Elbert had no idea how his words made Gisbourne seethe inside. None of the hatred he held for Hood, nor his hunger to possess Marian, had dissipated during the three years he'd been hiding in France. If anything, they had grown, fueled by his blood lust for revenge.

And now he had returned, to achieve what was driving him. Kill Hood at last, and take Marian as his own.

The sound of thundering hoofbeats drew near, causing Gisbourne to drop to the ground to watch and hide. Old Man Elbert felt the vibration, chuckled lightly, and informed Gisbourne, "That will be Their Lord and Ladyship now!"

Flying by, Marian's horse outpaced Robin's by a nose, as the pair raced across the meadow and into the forest, courting danger at breakneck speed. Gisbourne's eyes locked onto Marian. His breath became rapid and heavy while his eyes devoured her as she raced by...her beautiful sapphire eyes sparkling with excitement, her smooth, creamy cheeks flushed, her thick, dark hair streaming behind her, and her body...! Despite the dottering old fool's gossip of her being a mother to two brats, her body retained its full, luscious curves that Gisbourne lusted after in his mind every night before falling asleep, unsated in his overwhelming desire to possess it.

Deeper within the forest, Robin drew rein, calling out, "Whoa!" to his galloping horse. Marian, hearing him, did likewise.

"What's the matter?" she asked, smiling down at him after he swung down from his saddle.

"Come here," he invited, grinning irresistably up at her.

"Why should I?"

"Just get down."

"Why?"

Grinning even more broadly, Robin grasped her around her waist and pulled her off her horse. Surprise and indignation quickly turned to pleasure, when she found herself in his arms.

"I have something to show you," he laughed into her ear, in his inviting, intimate tone she found hard to resist.

"Admit I won first," she told him, flashing her dimples as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You won. And now, you may claim your prize."

She scoffed, laughing at his impudence. "What prize? A kiss from your lips?"

"Yes."

"Some prize! I was hoping for a-"

They almost forgot why they'd reined their horses, lost in a series of deep, romantic, thrilling kisses.

Impatient, Marian's horse whinnied and pawed the ground, making the lovers draw apart and laugh.

"Alright, Handsome," Marian said, smoothing back her hair, "what do you want to show me?"

Taking hold of her hand, Robin led her around an oak, then stood back, grinning proudly.

Blushing, Marian tried to hide her knowledge. "A tree?" she gasped. "A tree in the forest? Robin of Locksley, have you lost your mind?"

"You need to look closer! It's what's carved in the tree trunk, that matters."

"I don't see anything," she lied.

Despite her protests, she knew the tree. Years before, when she'd been a foolish girl of thirteen, she'd carved their initials within a heart in the tree trunk, not knowing Robin had done the same to numerous other trees. Although the bark had grown and split in places, the carving was still legible.

"Alright," she admitted. "So I carved our initials. What of it?"

"You put your initials first," he said, laughing boldly.

"I also used this tree for target practice," she boasted. "I used to come here, and throw my dagger at your R.L., over and over again."

"When I was at war?"

She nodded. "And sometimes, after you came back."

"I'm glad you did! I always wondered how your aim was so good, when you pitched your hairpin in that guard's shoulder."

"Now you know."

Bending down, Robin picked a handful of violets that were growing at the base of the tree, and presented them to his wife.

"You're romantic," she teased him, inhaling the flowers' sweet aroma. "What's the occasion?"

"I agree with what's on the tree," he grinned, pointing his thumb at the carving.

"You gave me violets when we celebrated our wedding night," Marian remembered, fondly.

Playfulness gave way to seriousness, when he clasped her in his arms and kissed her again.

"We need to get back," she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. "Gracie will cry, if she wakes from her nap and I'm not there."

Nodding, Robin walked her back to her horse, then swung himself onto his horse's broad back. "Race you home?" he invited.

In a flash they were off, galloping so quickly through the thick maze of trees, any rider with less skill would have collided and lost his seat.

So absorbed in each other were they, neither had noticed the tall, black clad figure that had snuck upon them, witnessing most of the tender scene.

Tasting the hatred that consumed him, Guy of Gisbourne threw back his head and roared a hoarse, animal cry.


	2. Chapter 2

Guy of Gisbourne pressed his back hard against the trunk of a tree, held his breath, and watched.

They were coming. Hood, with Marian, the woman who should have been his, riding closer, through the meadow toward the edge of the forest, where Gisbourne hid, awaiting them.

"Faster!" a child's voice piped, and Gisbourne heard Marian say, "We're going fast enough."

"Anyway, Boo, we're here," Hood decided, reining his horse and climbing down. "Anyone hungry?"

He had a baby strapped to him, yet he moved with ease, as though it were a part of him.

"Me, me, me!" the little brat piped, and Gisbourne tore his eyes from Marian to look upon the child who had ridden before her mother on the same horse.

Hood, lifting her down from the saddle while Marian spread a blanket on the meadow grass, smiled at the scrawny brat with a look of pure adoration lighting up his face. Adeptly, he unfastened the wriggling baby from his chest and set her down on the blanket, lovingly planting a kiss on the top of her bald head. To Gisbourne's surprise, the baby struggled to her feet, then tottered off the blanket on sturdy, though still wobbly legs.

"Look, Gracie!" the older child said. "Let's chase butterflies!"

Gisbourne watched with fury, hatred, and jealousy raging inside him, as Hood and Marian smiled as they watched the two brats tripping through the grass in identical dresses. A loving look passed between husband and wife, a look of deep joy, contentment, and unity such as Gisbourne had never known. Gisbourne seethed inside, longing to run Hood's body through with his sword, and paint the meadow red with his blood.

This was the very spot where he, Guy of Gisbourne, had once hidden to witness his sister Isabella, now King John's Queen, betray him by meeting secretly with Hood to whisper the Prince's plot in his outlaw ears, trying to nibble on them as she did so. They had been all over each other! No matter that the grieving Hood, believing Marian dead and buried beneath the sands outside Acre, had been fooled by Isabella's tricks at remaking herself into another Marian. He'd still had Gisbourne's sister! He'd had her, and now, he had Marian, Gisbourne's one and only love!

Hood needed to die, today.

The day being warm, Robin unwrapped the woolen scarf from his neck and flung it upon the blanket, then removed his leather doublet and pushed up his shirt sleeves. Together with Marian, he began unpacking the picnic supper their cook had provided.

"It's ready," Marian called happily to their girls.

Gisbourne couldn't reconcile the thought of those two brats belonging to Marian. The older one looked nothing like her, being ugly, like Hood. Scrawny, with a thin, freckled face and mousey brown hair, she couldn't have come from a woman of Marian's beauty. The baby, round and rosy, more closely resembled her, though she was ugly like Hood, too, without a single hair on her head.

"We need to pray before we eat," Marian reminded her little ones, as they settled on the blanket. Even the baby knew to fold her hands and bow her head, and Gisbourne's blood boiled as he listened to Hood's hated voice give thanks.

"Hypocrites," he breathed, growing hotter and hotter. "Liars. Thieves!"

"Daddy, what's on your neck?" the little girl asked, between bites of cold chicken.

Gisbourne narrowed his eyes to look closer, then went cold inside when he spied the strawberry mark.

"It's a bite," Hood answered, simply, then winked audaciously at his flustered wife.

"It's...an insect must have bitten Daddy. Eat your chicken," Marian said, clearly embarrassed.

A love bite! Gisbourne found himself tortured by images of Marian locked in Hood's arms, writhing and panting under his thrusting body.

No!

He would kill Hood, now! Silently, with murder in his heart, he drew forth his sword.

At the same moment, the baby opened her mouth and wailed, making Gisbourne freeze.

"What is it, Precious?" Marian asked, concerned.

"She's been stung," Robin answered, springing to his feet. Over the baby's loud cries, Gisbourne heard him say, "Don't worry about the picnic things. I'll take her home."

"Do you want to stay, Ellie?" Marian asked her other daughter.

The three-year-old looked stricken. "It'll be alright, Gracie," she said, trying to comfort her little sister. "Please don't cry. Bad bee!"

Robin, strapping the screaming child to his chest, offered, "Why don't we all go home, and leave our picnic for later?"

"I think that would be best," Marian agreed, relieved.

NO! Gisbourne, impotent with rage, could do nothing while he watched his enemy and the woman he burned for ride from his grasp. Boiling over with fury, Gisbourne bellowed a roar, hacking away at the tree that had hidden him, dulling his sword blade.


	3. Chapter 3

"Shh! It's alright, my love. It was only a dream."

Moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow, as Robin drew Marian closer in his arms, comforting her from her nightmare.

It wasn't often she awoke crying. Robin was the one plagued by nightmares, not she. On the rare nights she did suffer in her sleep, one man always featured in her dreams...the tall, menacing figure of Guy of Gisbourne.

"Gracie! I need to check on her," Marian said, returning to reality.

"She's fine. I just looked in on her, and she's sleeping peacefully. Djaq took good care of her."

Grateful the beesting had not harmed her baby, Marian snuggled closer against her husband's chest. "I need to talk about my dream," she told him, firmly believing discussion could cure and end nightmares, though she had to pull the words from him all the nights he woke up in a cold sweat. "Promise me you won't get angry."

With gentle, loving tenderness, he softly stroked her hair. "How could I be angry, when you can't control your dreams? They're the one thing we have no choice over."

His voice was so soft, his gaze so adoring, his touch so soothing, Marian hated to break the mood. Yet she felt she had to, or her dream would return to haunt her another night. "I dreamed I was marrying Gisbourne," she told him, forcing out the words in one quick breath.

"GISBOURNE?"

"Robin! You promised!"

Robin lay stiffly back, bristling with tension. Unhappy, Marian rolled away from him, facing the wall. Feeling all alone in the marriage bed, a small sniffle escaped her.

The sound of it melted away Robin's sudden flash of temper. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, leaning up on one elbow to look into her face. "I did not mean to get angry. Tell me your dream."

But Marian wasn't over her anger. "Why do you always flare up, at the mere mention of Gisbourne?" she accused, justifiably. "He's long gone! He can't threaten us any more. And another thing, Robin of Locksley! Do you know what you did, in my dream?"

Her anger had the effect of refueling his. "Don't tell me you're holding me accountable for your imaginings!"

They were both sitting up in bed now, too charged with emotion to remain lying down.

"Only because it's what you did in real life!" she accused. "You ran away, rather than admit to my face you loved me!"

"I never run!"

Lifting her eyebrows, she uttered a single, scoffing laugh. "It's what you do best, other than showing off with your bow."

"That's not fair. And I do not run."

Feeling angry and trapped, Robin rose from the bed, pulled on a shirt, and started to leave. Marian's words stopped him at their door.

"And what are you doing now?" she asked, winning the point.

Heaving a sigh, Robin turned around to face her. "Alright," he admitted, giving in rather than take the coward's course by attaching blame to others. Never on his life would he blame her father for urging him to, "Do the right thing and let her go," even if that is what he ultimately tried to do. "I accept what you said. But I'm not running. Whatever still needs to be said about Gisbourne, let's have it out now."

No longer angry, Marian wanted nothing so much as for him to return to their bed, and to her arms. But, repeating the same mistake her stubborn pride had made the very night she was referring to, she refused to let him know.

"I wanted you to declare your heart," she told him. "If you'd only told me how you felt, the day before my wedding to Gisbourne, I never would have gone through with it. As it was, I didn't anyway."

"Thanks to Much."

"Yes. Thanks to Much." She felt sad, still not understanding why Robin hadn't been able to speak aloud his feelings. "You say it readily enough now," she mentioned.

"You didn't make it easy for me, back then," he reminded her, wearing a sheepish smile as he approached the bed and sat beside her.

"I thought you liked a challenge." Her voice, sounding small, nearly caught in her throat. She couldn't explain the feeling of sorrow overcoming her, knowing she was so deeply loved and happily married.

Sensing her unhappiness, Robin reached out and held her in his arms. "Shh," he soothed, stroking her hair.

"Why are we arguing?" Marian asked. "There's nothing we should be angry about."

"You wanted to tell me your dream. Come one, let's lie down. I promise I'll listen. Now, you were marrying Gisbourne, and I was leaving."

"Yes, but first...first, you were dead."

"Alright. So...it was my ghost that ran away."

"No, it was you. The dream changed. First, it happened the way it really did, when I was held prisoner in the the Holy Land. I believed you were dead, and I needed Guy to...I needed Gisbourne to kill the sheriff."

Robin didn't respond, for memories of what befell Marian in the Holy Land featured prominently in his recent nightmares.

She pressed on. "I was...I was carrying your child, and just beginning to show, and I knew, if Gisbourne found out, he would kill me, and regret it later. The sheriff was plotting to kill the king, and I had to stop him. It seemed the only solution. Save the king, save England, and save our child. Guy's last chance to become a good man. Your son, for I always believed our baby was a boy, would inherit his rightful place as Lord of Locksley. I'm sorry, Robin, but it seemed the only solution at the time."

"It was a dream! Marian, you don't need to apologize."

"I love you. I don't know why I had to dream about the past."

"What? Are you saying it happened? You agreed to marry that traitor?"

"I couldn't see any other way to make things right! I was sacrificing myself, to save our child, and our country. You promised you wouldn't get angry! Anyway, you weren't dead, and I didn't have to."

"And he killed you, or so I thought."

"He tried to. But Djaq brought me back, just as she did before."

The agony of losing her rushed through him, flooding him with grief. "It doesn't matter," he told her, clasping her against his heart. "You did what you had to. Like you said, he's gone, to hell, if there's truly any justice. He can't come between us, ever again. I love you, Marian. I need you."

"I love you, too."

Their kiss, one of desperation, increased in intensity. They turned happy in their passion, knowing they belonged solely to one another.

Her simple white gown had ridden up around her thighs, and, without breaking the kiss, she tugged at his shirt, needing to remove it, as he freed himself from his trousers, kicking them off in his rush to be with her.

Their clothing soon littered the floor, and they came together again eagerly, banishing Gisbourne in desperate delight.

Palm to palm, with fingers entwined, they kisssed again and again, trembling in their eagerness with bodies pressed together.

Marian's skin glowed luminous in the moonlight, and Robin drank in her beauty, moving his lips over her body, filling her with love and burning longing. At last, when she felt she'd die if she had to wait another moment, she clung to his shoulders, feeling herself lifted higher and higher, giving love and taking pleasure, longing to make it last, yet being helpless to stay the spasms of delight which shook her, just as he reached equal heights.

Tender, gentle kisses followed, and Marian, tracing the outline of the hair on his chest, smilingly wondered what delighted her more...the ecstatic throes of passion, or seeing Robin's loving smile afterward. Completely content, she fell asleep, still wondering.


	4. Chapter 4

Unable to sleep, Gisbourne felt his mind as deeply plunged in darkness as the night.

Hating Sherwood Forest by day as the refuge of outlaws and losers, Gisbourne despised its nights, so dark, mysterious, and lonely. Awake, he shuddered through them, waiting for dawn, when he might seize a few hours sleep. And tonight, after having looked upon Marian and listened to her voice, Gisbourne found the night longer, colder, and lonelier than any he had yet suffered through in this despicable forest.

"Marian," he breathed, lowly, his heart aching. "Why?"

He'd thought he was over her. Over time, in France, her image had slowly faded from his thoughts. Yet having returned and seen her again, all his conflicting, tumultuous feelings for her came rushing back.

"You should have died when I killed you," he cried, his voice hoarse with grief. "You should have chosen me!"

Why Hood? Why that smug, self-satisfied do-gooder, champion of the filthy poor? _Why not me?_

_"I love Robin Hood," _she'd confessed, smiling to herself as if he weren't even there. Forgetting him, while he stood before her, sword drawn to strike. _"I'm going to marry Robin Hood."_

Staring into the darkness toward Locksley, Gisbourne pointed a finger and bellowed, "You, with your lies and your betrayals, deserved to die!"

And yet, when he'd believed her dead, how he had suffered! Then, too, as now, he'd suffered through horrible nights, plagued by demons clawing at his brain. Missing her, tortured by what he thought he'd done to her.

It was her fault, and Hood's. She'd made him love her, distracted him from his duties serving Vaisey, stopped him from killing the Lionheart when he had the chance! If it hadn't been for her, he would have succeeded, and then, what power and position would have been showered upon him, rather than having nothing!

Feelings of anger, hatred, and longing for revenge comforted Gisbourne. These were his companions, giving him strength and purpose, so much easier to stomach than feelings of sorrow, rejection, and weakness. He refused to let himself feel anything akin to those, having been schooled long ago at the hands of an abusive alcoholic father, that the only way he could deny his pain was to grasp power by seizing it, not caring whom he hurt if they stood in his way.

She had been his only exception. She had forced him to care, when he ought to have known better. And all the while, she'd only been playing a part, so that she could feed information to his enemy, the man she had chosen, even when that loser had nothing while Gisbourne stood to gain everything. It was incomprehensible.

"I will kill you, and this time, even your Saracen friend, with her heathen magic, won't be able to save you."

Could he kill her, he wondered. It would be a primal pleasure to murder Hood, but Marian...? He had acted on impulse when he'd stabbed her outside Acre, reacting to her traitorous words, "I love Robin Hood," needing to stop her from saying them. And the other time he'd nearly killed her, he hadn't known it was she behind the Nightwatchman disguise.

The Nightwatchman...! More betrayals! She'd duped him, the worst thing that could be done to a man, even after he'd shown her mercy by giving in to Allan's plan to save her, then keeping her secret from the sheriff, trusting her, when all the time, she'd been sleeping with Hood!

He made up his mind. He could indeed kill her now, and take pleasure in doing so.

But first, he longed to take pleasure off her in another way. "We will finish what you started, Liar," he promised.

Miserably, he realized his desire to possess her had in no way diminished, even though he wanted her dead. He had to have her. He longed to know what she was doing every minute of every day, what she was thinking even, she who'd been so good at hiding her true thoughts from him.

"You are mine," he roared, picturing her after he'd flung her to the hard stone floor, when she'd set that fire and tried to escape him. But there would be no escape this time.

Angry at himself for his feelings of obsession over her and the power her beauty still seemed to wield, he turned that anger toward her and his enemy, her husband, Robin Hood.

"Who's the spy now?" he whispered, menacingly. "Which one of us is watching, and who knows nothing?"

An idea seized him. Wanting her to be part of him and he her, he grasped onto the idea of becoming the new Nightwatchman, disguising himself under a cloak, mask, and scarf, just as she had worn.

He'd wear his own black cloak, and fashion a black mask to wear around his eyes, but the scarf had to belong to her! He would steal one, at risk to his life, because he needed to feel closer to her somehow, and this seemed the right first step to take.

Pleased with his plan, Gisbourne finally settled down on the forest floor, and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Sir Guy of Gisbourne, untrusting and suspicious, lacked the courage and boldness of Robin Hood.

Gisbourne would never dare to venture as close to Locksley as Hood used to do when their positions had been reversed, no matter how hotly he burned to see Marian.

Of course, Gisbourne reminded himself, he was right to be cautious. He was not in league with the peasants who'd helped cover up Hood's appearances in their village, all because the outlaw slipped a coin or two in their grubby palms. Stolen coins...money that rightfully belonged to the sheriff, stolen by Hood with his clever little plans!

And yet, instead of keeping a healthy distance, Gisbourne was surprised to find himself dangerously close to the village this clear spring morning. Irresistibly drawn to Marian, he must have walked here without realizing where his feet had led him.

Certain he was completely alone and well hidden atop the hill overlooking the village, Gisbourne locked his eyes on the Manor enclosing Marian, knowing she was inside, thirsting for even a glimpse of her, and wondering how he might steal her scarf, to become the new Nightwatchman.

A man on horseback rode to the door, dismounted, and entered the house. Guy recognized Bonchurch, the runt, Hood's bosom friend, a peasant who dared hold a title, unjustly owning a house and land, while he, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, had nothing! Another outlaw who deserved to die, if only for his role in stopping Guy's wedding! He never could keep his mouth shut, Gisbourne recalled.

What did that runt want this morning? It seemed too early to be paying a mere social call. And then, Gisbourne remembered.

Today must be the morning the Council of Nobles was slated to meet in Nottingham! Bonchurch must have called, to ride there with Hood! If that were the case, Marian would be left behind, without the protection of her archer husband!

Gisbourne found himself trembling with excitement as a sneer stretched across his face, while he reworked his plans.

...

"Stop it! Stop! Marian, can't you make your baby stop splashing me? Unbelievable!"

Much, having sat down to breakfast, quickly regretted his seat at the table, for Baby Grace adored slapping her spoon into her bowl of pottage, especially when she discovered how it made her pottage splatter all over Uncle Much's face.

"Grace! That's enough!" Marian scolded, firmly. "Do you need me to spoon your food into your mouth, or can you be a big girl like Ellie, and eat properly?"

"Good morning," Robin called brightly, smiling at his family and best friend, as he came sauntering down the stairs.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Much asked, eager to find fault with Robin's new manservant Thomas, who should have insisted on something more formal. "I'm not saying anything!"

"Yes," Robin answered, snickering. "It's better than what you're wearing."

Much was astounded. "Wha-wha-wha-what? What's wrong with what I'm wearing, I'd like to know? For your information, these are my finest robes!"

"I'm talking about the pottage in your beard," Robin teased him, quickly kissing the top of his wife's and daughters' heads before slipping into his seat. "Hardly the thing for the Council of Nobles, you know."

Much, unable to get out any words, furiously opened and closed his mouth, until he finally managed to say, "Very funny! I think you'll find, Smarty, it was your baby who splashed pottage on me! Which, if you think about it, is a rude and unacceptable thing to do, when you consider how difficult it is to get it out of my hair and beard, when she doesn't have any hair at all! Why, she's even balder than Sheriff Vaisey! At least he spouted that little devil's triangle in the middle of his forehead!"

Hearing the insult to her child, Marian slyly slapped her own spoon in Grace's pottage, splashing Much all over again.

"Unbelievable!" Much cried, glaring at Grace, believing she had caused this fresh dosing.

"Forgive me," Marian said, with sweet innocence. "I dropped my spoon."

Catching Robin's appreciative wink, she smiled back at him, proudly.

...

Hood was leaving...seated on his horse to ride away, and leave Marian at Gisbourne's mercy. Spying from his secret vantage point on the hilltop overlooking Locksley, Guy wetted his lips, narrowed his eyes, and watched.

Marian, with the bald-headed baby on her hip and the scrawny, freckle-faced brat clinging to her skirts, had stepped outside the manor to bid her husband goodbye.

"Don't forget to bring up the forestry laws," she reminded him. "As you said, Nottingham's dissent can bring change to all England."

"I won't forget," Hood promised, smiling adoringly down at her.

Guy watched, unable to tear away his eyes, as Marian lifted each brat for Hood to kiss goodbye, then turned her own face upward to receive her kiss. Hood leaned down in the saddle. Their kiss, a lingering heartfelt one, didn't sting Guy as greatly as the look between the lovers that followed it. Their eyes held each other's warm smiling gaze, seeming to signal, "I am yours and you are mine. You thrill and delight me, and I cannot wait until we're together again."

"You will wait until Hell freezes over," Gisbourne sneered, jealous rage consuming him, "for you will never be together, ever again. I will see to it."


	6. Chapter 6

Tortured by what he'd just seen, Gisbourne couldn't erase the image of Marian kissing Hood from his mind.

_What were those kisses between us then, that perfect hour? More lies? More betrayals?_

He could still taste her lips, feel the softness of her hair he'd wound his fingers into, the one and only time she'd let him kiss her. He had poured himself into her, having dreamed of that moment for so long, and if her response hadn't been all he'd desired, it was only because she'd been a pure, unawakened maiden. Hadn't it?

Casting his mind back to the events of that day, Gisbourne felt stunned, then grew hot with fury.

"Liar!" he bellowed, not caring who might hear him.

He'd already suspected she hadn't come from Ripley Convent, yet it had hurt too much to put all the puzzle pieces together. He'd needed to hold onto the memory of their kisses, his searing her cold, chaste mouth that day he'd believed Hood dead.

_You were part of his plan! _Gisbourne falsely realized. _He told you to distract me, with your kisses!_

What was it about Hood, that made others follow him and do his bidding? Somehow that day, he'd turned Carter, the sheriff's hired assassin, who yearned for nothing so fiercely as to kill Hood, into his accomplice! And Marian! How Hood must have laughed back at his filthy camp, counting the money he'd stolen and crowing over the Pact, when his whore described how he, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, had fallen for her charms! Guy could picture the outlaw's hated face, eyes lit up and mouth open wide, flashing his ugly teeth, laughing while Marian described how easy it had been to distract him!

_I am nobody's fool, _Gisbourne seethed. _You will pay for your betrayals, for your lies. This time, when I kiss you, I will master you. I will make you burn for me, and then, after I take you, you will die._

He longed to kill Hood as well, though he believed it impossible. How many times had Hood escaped him? Far too many to count. Fearing for his own life, he did not wish for a showdown with that smug little fiend who could fight like the devil. Better to take Marian, the woman who should have been his, take her as roughly as possible, cleave unto her to finally slake his lust, and then slay her, once and for all.

"I will take her from you, Hood, and she will learn what a real man feels like!"

Yet still, with his hatred and his thirst for revenge fuelling him, Gisbourne hesitated.

Hood was gone, yet Marian was far from alone. The filthy Locksley peasants swarmed about her and her two brats.

_You would have given me sons, not insignificant girls! I should be Lord of the Manor, not Hood, with our strong, sturdy sons growing up around us. _

The thought was too painful. Again, he'd fallen prey to his empty dream. She had never wanted him! Always, it had been Hood! _WHY?_

She was smiling, blooming like a well-tended rose in a garden. She and her two brats had left the garden, having pulled carrots from the ground, and were feeding them to their horses. Horses that had once belonged to him! Finishing, she led her brats on a walk through the village, stopping to talk with the scum who lived there, as if they were her friends!

She was beautiful, more beautiful even than before. Gisbourne had to remind himself how much he hated her, she who had made him suffer, who continued to torture him with her beauty and her betrayals.

There were too many men in that village, armed with tools that could easily turn into weapons. Alone, Gisbourne could not charge in among them and seize her, greatly as he burned to. Feeling impotent, he could only watch and wait, until she rode off, alone.

"I can wait," he muttered under his breath. "I've waited years for you. I can wait days, or hours, to take you at last. You will suffer, as you've made me suffer. But even more, Hood will suffer, and I will have my revenge."


	7. Chapter 7

What was she doing now?

Unable to tear away his eyes from the only woman he'd ever loved, Gisbourne continued secretly watching Marian as she and her two little girls moved through Locksley. The scowl on Gisbourne's face turned to his customary sneer when he saw her speaking amiably with a child struggling to carry a bucket heavy with water from the well.

"Things would be different, were I your lord and husband," Gisbourne sneered. "You'd never forget your place, and neither would the filthy peasants."

He made no effort to stifle a moan, when he saw Marian take the bucket and carry it for the child, lowering herself in his eyes.

Unwilling to watch the woman he'd honored as the future Lady Gisbourne perform peasant's labor, Gisbourne turned his attention to the child. He knew that girl. Though she'd shot up a few inches, she was the same red-headed chit he'd grabbed and threatened to drop over the cliff, when Hood had returned from the Holy Land to kill him.

"This time, when Hood learns I've killed you, I won't be anywhere he can find me," Gisbourne promised Marian, though he knew she couldn't hear him.

How he'd suffered when he believed her dead, slain by his hand! How he'd let himself go, sinking into drink, his only escape to forget the look of accusation and surprise on her beautiful face when she realized he'd plunged his sword through her perfect body!

"You forced me to do it!" he cried, remembering his anguish at her words.

_I love Robin Hood. I'm going to marry Robin Hood._

She'd proven her words were true, and now, she needed to die, die for good so he could find some peace at last. He would win and Hood would lose, for what good was Locksley, without her? Hood would find it cold and empty, a place turned to ash, devoid of its mistress.

Gisbourne continued watching Marian carry the bucket to the red-headed chit's cottage. All three children followed her, like ducklings tagging along after their mother duck. Hood's scrawny older brat skipped, while the bald one toddled with unsteady steps. The lazy peasant chit, who ought to be working to serve the Manor, held the bald baby's hand, to help her walk and steer her clear of Locksley Pond.

"You wish to swim?" Gisbourne asked, struck with the idea of drowning Hood's baby.

If only Marian and Hood's spawn weren't surrounded by peasants! Gisbourne never hated the filthy rabble as much as he did now!

"For now, you are protected, while I am alone, with no one on my side to guard and protect me," he sneered.

Allan! Another one who'd betrayed him, for Hood!

He'd taken tremendous pleasure in Allan, stealing him from Hood and making him his own, a servant, a friend even, whom he thought he could control to perform his bidding. Someone as loyal to him, as the runt Bonchurch was to Hood. Yet, what had happened? When absolute wealth and power were in their grasp, Allan had turned traitor and deserted him, flying back to rescue Hood from certain death!

WHAT WAS THE POWER HOOD WIELDED OVER OTHERS, TO MAKE THEM FOLLOW HIM?

"You were mine, Allan," Gisbourne sneered, unhappily. "I paid you!"

Where was Allan now? Gisbourne vowed to himself, he would find out and enjoy making that traitor pay as well as Marian, who was now disappearing into her house, along with Hood's brats.


	8. Chapter 8

"Well, that did not go well! To put it bluntly, if bluntly's the word I want, it went horrible!"

"Horribly, Much," Robin corrected, as the two friends left the Council of Nobles to head to The Trip to Jerusalem Inn for a bit of refreshment and a visit with Allan, its proprietor. "And it didn't. They just need time, to get used to hearing my arguments against the forestry laws."

"To get used to hearing you speak Treason, more like! If King John ever learns what you said-"

"I'm fluid in that language, whenever John rules England, it would seem."

"Yes! Well, be careful! You have a lot more at risk now, you know! We all do! You can't change the world, Robin."

"Give me time."

Entering The Trip, the two young lords stopped for a moment to allow their eyes to adjust to the dim light within. The tavern was full of customers, regulars who came to enjoy Allan a Dale's hilarious "yarns" as much as the tavern's ale and grub. The scent of stew bubbling in a cauldron over the fire washed away Much's worries. "Stew!" he announced, a huge smile lighting up his face.

"Look, John!" Allan laughed, catching sight of his friends. "If it isn't Their Graces, come from the Council! Not bein' funny, Much, but did the laundry not get done at Bonchurch, so you had to wear your wife's best gown?"

"Very funny!"

Despite the ribbing, the men were delighted to see one another. Robin and Much joined Little John at a table, while Allan straddled a bench to make the party four.

"Any chance we can expect some service, before next Christmas?" Much asked, wiping the table with his handkerchief.

Grinning, Allan summoned Constance, the perky, petite blond, who brought steaming bowls of stew and large tankards of frothy ale to the table.

"Business appears to be good, Allan," Robin said, approvingly. "How are you, John?"

"Hear anything from the Queen Mother?" Much teased. "She fancies you!"

Beneath his unkempt hair and beard, Little John blushed, then held out a letter. "She wrote, but read, I do not. Read it, Robin?"

"You're sure you want me to?" Robin asked, grinning wickedly. "It's bound to be private."

"Read it."

"Yeah, out loud," Allan added. "I could use a bit of smut right now."

Robin's expression changed to one of warning, at the insult directed toward Queen Eleanor. "Watch it," he threatened, unfolding the letter.

He drew in his breath as he scanned the words intended for Little John alone, quietly relaying them to the giant, who blushed redder. Then, reaching the closing of the letter, he looked concerned.

"What is it? What does it say?" Much asked, in tune to all Robin's moods.

Looking his men in the eye, one by one, Robin told them, "She sends a warning. 'Rumor has it, the snake is heading back into the garden.' "

"Snake? What?" Allan laughed, confused. "She must be referrin' to your big stick, Big Man, with her bein' the garden! One old, withered garden, but-"

Little John growled, shutting him up. "Snakes, we do not like."

"Robin, what does it mean?"

Robin couldn't answer, though his mind was racing. She couldn't mean King John was planning to pay another of his toxic visits to Nottingham again, he hoped. And yet, John's presence might be preferable to someone else's...someone tall and dark and sinister, who'd fled to France when King Richard returned, escaping justice.

"I think we all need to be on guard," Robin warned them. A dreadful thought struck him, and without having touched his stew nor ale, he rose to his feet to go.

"Robin, where are you going?" Much asked, alarmed.

"Home, Much," he answered. "I'm going home."

...

Although Marian adored Grace with her whole heart, she enjoyed the hours her willful baby napped, for then, she could devote all her attention to her first born child, her sweet and gentle Ellen.

Because it was such a lovely afternoon, she had taken Ellen on a walk through the meadows surrounding Locksley, and now, her three-year-old was seated on her lap in the sweet smelling grass, asking for stories. She had no idea Gisbourne lurked nearby, watching and listening, waiting for his chance to seize her.

"Tell me about you and Daddy in the tree again," Ellen piped, "and the ring, and the bird."

Smiling, Marian held out both hands, asking, "Which ring, Boo?"

"The purple one."

It was odd, Marian reflected, to think that her mother's amethyst and her own emerald engagement ring both involved being high in the treetops with Robin, as well as birds.

"Alright," she began, feeling deliciously happy as her little girl snuggled closer on her lap. "This ring," she explained, holding out her right hand, "once belonged to my mother, your grandmother, who went to Heaven when I was born. When I was a little girl, I used to sneak it out of the box my father kept it in, and look at it, and when I got bigger and learned I would get to marry Daddy, my father told me he planned to give it to your daddy, so he could present it to me."

"Tell about the bad bird, Mama."

"I'm getting to that. One day, when I was about ten years older than you, I snuck the ring out of its box without telling my father, and wore it."

"Why?"

"I was naughty. I wanted to impress your daddy, who'd been at the King's Court with all the pretty ladies who liked him too much, and I wanted him to think of me as grown up and sophisticated as they were."

"What's sophisticated?"

"It's like this." Turning up her nose, Marian adopted a supercilious expression, making Ellen frown.

"Don't be 'fisticated, Mama. Daddy likes you the way you are."

"You're very smart, darling. Daddy didn't care if I wore a ring or not. He was happy to see me, and I soon forgot about trying to impress him by putting on airs."

"And the ring slipped off your finger in the forest, and you couldn't find it, and the bad bird came and stole it!"

"It was a magpie. They're always stealing shiney objects. We saw it pick up the ring in its beak and fly away, and we chased after it, all the way to the tree where it had its nest."

"Uncle Much was nervous."

"He was. He knew Daddy would climb the tree to get my ring for me."

"And you climbed the tree, too, didn't you, Mama? But not Uncle Much."

"Uncle Much hates climbing. But Daddy and I like it."

"Did Daddy kiss you in the treetop?"

"Not with this ring. That happened in the other ring story."

"When the evil bad man wanted to hurt Daddy, and you had to trick him, so Daddy could get away."

All during Marian's story, Gisbourne had felt numb, lulled by the beautiful cadence of her voice. Now, however, hearing her treachery spoken aloud by Hood's brat, he felt hot waves of fury wash over him.

Even their brat laughed at him! Instantly, he remembered the day he thought he'd saved Marian up in the tree, choking as smoke billowed around them. "You're safe now," he'd told her, so tenderly, feeling a way he'd never felt before, not even caring for the moment if Hood escaped him. She had sobbed, melting his heart even more. Yet it had all been a trick, even her being tied and gagged, and lowered from the branches! Her tears had been only for Hood, not for him! Never for him. Even now, he found it hard to accept the truth of her betrayal.

He narrowed his eyes to see the two rings she wore, one on either hand.

_The left hand, _the priest had told her. _The ring goes on the left hand._

_No. The right is better!_

More betrayals! What a fool he'd been, over her! He was glad he'd burned down her house, glad he'd hurt her. It was nothing to the pain she was causing him. And now, perhaps at long last, he could take his revenge and truly watch her suffer.

"That magpie's nest was full of treasure," Hood's smug, hated voice suddenly announced, as the archer appeared, swaggering out of nowhere, making Marian, Ellen, and Gisbourne jump. "You might say that was the first time I stole back what others had taken, to give to the poor."

"Daddy!"

Gisbourne watched the brat jump off her mother's lap and be lifted high in Hood's arms. He cringed as she squealed with delight at being swung wide, then clasped and kissed on her cheek. He cringed even more when he watched Marian rise, and be kissed as well.

Again, the looks that passed between them nearly rent Gisbourne's heart in two!

"How was the Council?" Marian asked, her arms around his neck, her gaze so warm and promising, even Gisbourne could feel its heat.

_Why couldn't you ever look at me like that, just once? Why Hood? WHY?_

DAMN! ROBIN HOOD! Should Gisbourne risk it and make his move, now that Hood had arrived? He cursed himself for not acting sooner. Tortured by fear and indecision, Gisbourne's breath grew labored, as he watched in secret, longing for murder and revenge.


	9. Chapter 9

Hours later, when night spread its black cloak over Locksley and an April storm blocked out the moon, Guy of Gisbourne continued to lurk outside the house where Marian slept.

Gisbourne, drenched with his black clothes clinging to him like a second skin, seemed oblivious to the rain, though his teeth chattered and his flesh shivered with cold.

From a ground floor window inside the house, a rushlight flared and then dimmed to a glow, catching Gisbourne's eye. The office! Someone within the house was up, and Gisbourne, jumpy with his nerves raw, edged closer than he'd dared during the day, to see who it was.

Everyone else in the village slept. No guards kept watch, as there had been when Gisbourne lived in the manor.

"Think you're safe," he sneered as he approached nearer and nearer to the lit window. "Think you can protect yourself, with your bow and your swagger. You're in for a rude awakening, Hood."

Gisbourne determined to kill Hood that very night. For too long he had burned with hatred and jealousy toward the smug young archer who had everything Gisbourne felt ought to be his, the man who had thwarted him at every turn, first as a soldier and later as a filthy outlaw.

Gisbourne longed to make Hood's death as slow and painful as possible, but he knew better than to insist upon that. He recalled one of Sheriff Vaisey's pet schemes, to capture Robin Hood, strip him naked, then slowly roast him over a cooking fire, like a woodcock for dinner. "Oh, yes, Gisbourne," Vaisey had crowed, wetting his lips in eager anticipation, "think of it, hmm? I'll baste Hood's pretty little body with melted butter, making him glisten as he turns golden brown! Think of his agony, while I slowly turn him over the fire, engaging all the time in one of little chats! He won't be so smug then, will he, Gisbourne, hmm? Oh, this is good! This is good!"

Unfortunately, the sheriff was never able to carry out his plan, for Hood escaped him again and again. No, it was better to kill him as quickly as possible, to finish the job at last.

Reaching the house just outside the lit window, Gisbourne cautiously peered inside.

Hood, dressed casually in a white shirt topping brown trousers, appeared unarmed. Leaning against his desk, he seemed engrossed in reading a heavy law tome.

Silently, Gisbourne unsheathed his sword, readying himself to kick in the window and attack.

Just at that moment, however, Marian appeared through the window, standing just inside the doorway, her incredible beauty stopping Gisbourne where he stood.

Her hair tumbled down her back in heavenly disarray, and she looked like an angel in her simple white flowing nightdress. Its gathered, scooped neckline slipped to reveal one creamy shoulder, sending tongues of fire through Gisbourne's loins.

He imagined the nightdress slipping completely off her, revealing her body to him in all its delectable loveliness.

"The rain woke me," Hood explained with a smile, closing the law book and placing it on the desk.

"Your thoughts woke you," Marian corrected, advancing toward him and putting her arms around his neck.

Gisbourne's lust changed to jealous fury when he saw her fingers play in the curls on the back of Hood's neck. He'd seen her do the same thing earlier today, in the meadow.

_How can you prefer his brown, mousey hair to mine? And do you have to touch him, while you talk? _

"Admit it, Robin," she was saying, her fingers playing lightly in his hair while she gazed up at him. "You were thinking about the Council of Nobles, and how you might change the law."

Hood was holding her around her waist, smiling adoringly down at her. "That, and something else I learned today," he told her.

"What did you learn?"

Gisbourne couldn't lift his eyes from her exposed shoulder. _If I were holding you instead of Hood, I'd tear your nightdress off, and take you over the top of the desk!_

"Queen Eleanor sent a warning," Hood told her, seriously. His thumbs, Gisbourne couldn't help but notice, were absently caressing Marian's hips in small, slow circles, while his hands remained around her waist. "I hope I'm wrong, but there's a chance Gisbourne might show his ugly face here again, before too long."

The news surprised Marian, nearly as much as it did Gisbourne. "He wouldn't dare," she breathed, letting go of her husband. "He's...he's wanted! King John wants him dead, as much as Richard did! Thanks to Isabella, Guy is the king's enemy!"

Robin winced slightly, as he always did whenever Marian called Gisbourne by his Christian name.

Noticing his annoyance, she wrapped her arms around his neck again, assuring him, "He's our enemy, too. Anyway, I'm sure you're wrong. Gisbourne would never venture here again."

"I never hated him as much as I did, the night he burned down your house."

Gisbourne, listening avidly, watched as Hood sat down on a chair. Marian sat upon his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't like talking about him, as you know," she said soothingly, "but can you guess the time I detested him most?"

"When he forced you to agree to marry him?"

"No. I hated him most, I believe, the day he was willing to let Daniel be killed, and he came at you wearing that invincible armor, when you were completely unarmed."

"Damascus steel," Robin remembered.

"Only a bully and a coward would fight like that," Marian affirmed. "And then, when he believed I saved him from drowning, he did nothing to stop my father being locked in the dungeon."

Gisbourne froze, not believing what he'd heard. "Detested...bully...coward...!" These were words she used, in reference to him!

"I don't want to talk about him, any more," she said, bravely.

"Good idea," Hood said, his voice soft and alluring.

Gisbourne watched in horror as the couple kissed, softly and tenderly.

"Let's go back to bed," Hood suggested, one hand gently caressing Marian's thigh. "I know how you like to fall asleep listening to the rain on the roof."

"Sleep?" she teased, smiling flirtatiously back at him. "Now, Locksley, where would be the fun in that?"

Cold and wet, with rain dripping from the ends of his hair and off the tip of his nose and chin, Gisbourne watched in fury at Hood's answering grin and at him blowing out the rushlight and playfully chasing Marian out of the room.


	10. Chapter 10

_Sleep? Now, Locksley, where would be the fun in that?_

The tempting look on Marian's face, accompanied by her obvious invitation to Hood, made Gisbourne's blood boil over in rage. Forgetting his fear, he wanted nothing other than to kill the pair of them, before Hood could once again possess the beautiful, lying traitor who had been so expert at deceiving him...hurting him...making him care! Betraying him...the worst sin a person could commit.

Consumed by his thirst for murder and revenge, Gisbourne circled the house, looking for a way in. Peering through a ground floor window into the main hall, Gisbourne froze, struck by what he saw.

Lit by dying embers in the fireplace, minor changes to the house where he'd been lord and master for more than five years, had nevertheless transformed it. Gone were the striking black and yellow Gisbourne hangings, replaced by the more soothing Huntington hangings of green and gold, with their shafts of wheat. A cloth, also green and gold, covered the massive dining table, softening the room, which also contained vases filled with fresh flowers.

A woman's touch! _Her _touch! The realization ate at Gisbourne, stabbing him in his gut.

"You should have been mine! All of this should have been mine!"

His anguish turned to disgust when he saw what littered the floor in front of the hearth. Gisbourne sneered.

A plethora of children's playthings dirtied the room, stealing the authority and respect due to the lord of the manor. Carved wooden animals, qued up two-by-two, seemed headed toward an elaborate wooden ark. Wooden blocks formed towers, ready to be knocked over. A wooden cradle, too small to hold a real child, sheltered a soft, cloth poppet. There was even a toy castle, also carved from wood.

Something within Guy of Gisbourne made him long to destroy these playthings. A memory, quick as a flash of lightning, fueled his disgust.

His own father, a drunken tyrant, hadn't allowed him or his sister any toys. Yet someone in their village of Gisbourne had once slipped Isabella a poppet, much like the one Gisbourne saw in Hood's house now.

Guy had been furious, jealous that Isabella was given something to love, when he had nothing. While his six-year-old sister looked on crying, ten-year-old Guy had twisted the poppet's head off, draining it of its sawdust filling.

It had felt good, much like the satisfaction it gave him now when he killed a man, draining his blood.

And now, if he could only get inside the house, he'd soon be draining Hood's blood!

Rattling a window he couldn't budge, Gisbourne froze again, shocked to see Hood himself, his hair mussed and his shirt untucked, come sauntering down the stairs with one of his brats in his arms.

Had the filthy outlaw taken Marian already? That was quick! When he himself would have the chance to have her, Guy vowed he wouldn't finish with her so quickly!

But Gisbourne misunderstood what had actually happened.

Reaching their bedchamber, Robin had just begun kissing his wife, when Ellen's cries from the nursery interrupted the loving couple.

"I'll go," Robin offered. "Wait for me?"

Marian nodded, knowing how easily Ellen could be soothed. "May I remind you, Robin, I waited for you five years, not to mention all the countless times you've been late," she teased him, fondly. "I'm happy to wait a few minutes, while you take care of Ellie."

"My horsie!" the little girl was crying. "Daddy, I can't find Horsie!"

Ellen's beloved toy was a soft stuffed horse her father had given her before Grace was born. She had loved it so hard, it no longer looked like a horse, but it was beautiful in her eyes.

"Now, let's see where you left it," Robin suggested, picking her up and holding her close. "I think I remember seeing you with him downstairs, before your bath. Shall we go look?"

And sure enough, they found the misshapen, lumpy horse along with the other toys by the fire.

"Master? Is everything alright?"

Gisbourne fumed to see Thornton, dressed in a nightshirt and robe, step respectfully into the room. Other servants, their faces sleepy, followed.

"The crisis is solved. We lost our horse, but it's been found," Robin grinned, kissing the top of Ellen's head. "We can all go back to bed now, I think. Goodnight."

Happy, everyone filed from the room, leaving Gisbourne alone in the dark.

He'd missed his chance. With nearly everyone awake, he didn't dare break into the house.

But this wasn't finished. He vowed never to rest, until he had his revenge.

**(Note: To read his revenge, take a look at A Birthday for Much, the very first chapter story I ever wrote, and also And The Lord taketh Away, Part Two, undoubtably the saddest story I ever wrote. I would have liked to have written more action in this tale, but I didn't want to change the events in the stories I already wrote, detailing Gisbourne's evil actions. **

**Again, Thank you to all my readers and reviewers!)**

**~FIN~**


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